The Unseen & Unheard Friend
by DarkPrincessFangirl
Summary: Harry and Ron never meet. Not on the Hogwarts Express, not ever. Yet whenever Harry needs help, Ron's there, always, because this time it's Ron who survives the Battle of Hogwarts and he's come back to set things right.
1. Prologue

_**Prologue**_

_Summary::: Ron and Harry never meet. Not on the Hogwarts Express, not ever. Yet whenever Harry needs help, Ron's there, always, because this time it's Ron who survives the Battle of Hogwarts, and he's come back to put it right._

Ron Weasley stepped around the ruins of the Great Hall, or he thought it was. The entire castle was so dilapidated it was nearly unrecognizable. He collapsed on a flat piece of rubble that could have once been a staircase. The grounds are silent- not even a single cricket is chirping, and not a single soul in sight. They were all dead anyway. He lets out a short breath of sour laughter and buries his face in his hands.

_Well there's nothing left for me here. _He stands up and closes his eyes, and pulls out his wand.

"_Tempus Vertere." _He whispers, the words coming easily after hundreds and hundreds of times of repeating the incantation, until Hermione was certain he and Harry had had gotten it. The sharp pain in his heart grows more pronounced at the thought of his friends, and sharpens as a blue light surrounds him clouding his vision of the broken castle. _Never again _he thought fiercely _ever. _And his vision went black.

_So, this is my next story: Basically, if you're confused, Ron is the only one who survives the Battle of Hogwarts, and he goes back to make it all right. And the only reason that he won't ever really interact with Harry in this story is because, Hermione has drilled into his head, that he cannot ever meet with anyone that could potentially change his future/past so i.e.; Hermione and Harry. And yeah, I'll repost this information at the beginning of next chapter. Reviews make me write faster, seriously it's been scientifically proven__. Bye. *coughreviewcoughcough*_

_DarkPrincessFangirl 3_


	2. Chapter 1

_AN:::Basically, if you're confused, Ron is the only one who survives the Battle of Hogwarts, and he goes back to make it all right. And the only reason that he won't ever really interact with Harry in this story is because, Hermione has drilled into his head, that he cannot ever meet with anyone that could potentially change his future/past so i.e.; Hermione and Harry. Thanks to my extremely lovely little sister who gave me the prompt: Ron and Harry never meet- write a story. And for her for being my unofficial beta and making this story a 13 times better. And thank you all for all of the reviews and favorites and follows! You guys make my day! *squeals and does happy dance* ahem *gestures gallantly in direction of story*_

Harry looks up at the high arches of Kings Cross apprehensively, the echoes of his aunt and uncle's laughter still ringing in his ears. There's a feeling of dread in his stomach, as if all of this- Hogwarts and him being a wizard- is going to turn out wrong. Somehow, somewhere he's going to mess it all up. And now he's lost.

"Excuse me?" He asks a tall woman carrying an owl and a huge trunk. "9 ¾.." He trails off, as she points him toward two stone arches, and gives her a quick smile as a thank you.

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The train is well on its way when he meets Hermione Granger, one of the most terrifying human beings he has ever met. She spends most of the train ride alternating between grilling him about Hogwarts, dumping books about him toward Harry, and talking his ear off with complete nonsense. The only Harry gets a brief respite is when she leaves for a few minutes.

Apparently he wasn't even to get that for long. "Some idiot," Hermione announced settling herself back into the compartment "decided to show me a spell. It wasn't very impressive, of course. Didn't even work. Say, can you do some spells?"

Harry slammed his head against the window and tried to push down his impending headache.

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Harry has no idea where Hermione has got to. After hearing the disparaging comments in Charms class from Malfoy, she had disappeared tears streaking down her face. The whole of the school was in a state of wide panic of the huge mountain troll.

As he was desperately searching the crowd for her telltale bushy hair, someone slammed straight into him. "Sorry," he muttered moving away.

"Girls bathroom on second floor," a voice whispered in his ear, and Harry jerked in surprise, spinning around but there was no one anywhere near him.

In the distance he heard a loud roar followed by a shriek. Harry took off sprinting down the corridor, not noticing a red haired boy standing near the staircase watching him.

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It's after midnight when he and Hermione finally decide to sneak out, and after she's just successfully petrified Neville, Harry is more than a little terrified of her. His scar is stabbing hot needles of pain into his forehead, making it impossible to think.

They get past Fluffy, Devil's Snare and the winged keys easily enough, but Harry is struck dumb when they reach the giant chessboard.

"What the hell are we supposed to do?" He asks Hermione.

She shrugs looking scared. "I have no idea how to play chess, do you?" Harry shakes his head, the pit of fear in his stomach increasing.

"I do." A voice makes Harry and Hermione yelp and spin around. There's a boy standing in the shadows of the chess pieces, and Harry can just make out a nasty cut on his cheek, and smears of mud in his vivid red hair. The boy moves into the firelight and they cast shadows on his face that make him look older than he is; haunted and older. "I can play."

"How in the world-?" Hermione begins heatedly, but Harry waves his hand at her.

"It doesn't matter Hermione," he turns to the boy somehow feeling that he is trustworthy. "Can you play well? We need to get past them." He indicates the white players on the other side of the chess board with a growing sensation of despair. Time is running out and every second they waste, he was letting Snape get closer to the Stone.

The boy tilts his chip up irritably, the movement sending blood down his chin. "Of course I can. I wouldn't have followed you two into this bloody death trap, if I couldn't."

Hermione stiffens. "Yes, but how would _you _know what we would come up against?"

Harry feels a flicker of amusement and a strange fondness sweep over him as the boy's eyes widen in a panic.

"It doesn't matter." He says brusquely. "I can play, so do you want my help or not?"

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Harry wakes up with a sort of panic, the last thing he remembers is Quirrell reaching for the Stone, turning to dust…. And nothing.

"You're feeling better then?" A soft voice makes him jerk and pull the bedcovers up to chin violently. A blurred hand presses his glasses into his palm, and Harry looks up blinking at the tired form of the red haired boy from the chessboard.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Harry croaked remembering how hard he hit his head when he fell off the knight onto the marble floor.

The red haired boy cracks a grin, a tired half smile that doesn't reach his blue eyes. "I'm brilliant, mate," he says comfortably, "just looking to see if you were alright after.. You-Know-Who and-." He cuts himself off and after a pregnant pause smiles at Harry and shuffles his feet slightly. "Get some rest, Harry. I'll see you later."

Harry hurriedly raises himself up onto his elbows. "How did you know? That me and Hermione would be down there?"

The boy turns back, and Harry feels a slight sense of foreboding. His eyes are haunted and tired, and too old for a boy who is only a first year. "Get some sleep. You'll need it."

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_Ta-da! The end of Harry's first year at Hogwarts without his Wheezy :). I only decided to put the parts where I knew Harry would be affected by Ron the most and change them for ex: the Hogwarts train, and not write the whole book again because.. um no. And the thing about Harry's 'feelings' is that he's going to get a slight sense that he knows Ron, but that's all it's going to be- just a feeling. And if I didn't mention this before, this story is __**NOT SLASH. NOTNOTNOTOTSLASH**__. I don't how much more clearly I could have made that. So if you have any questions or comments, please please feel free to nitpick this story to pieces. Really I'd love it. Reviews make me write faster!_

_DarkPrincessFangirl 3 _


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: Wow, I suck. Like majorly. I would've update earlier but school is at the bottom pit of Hell at the moment and. Ugh. Life. But anyway! Here's chapter 2, I literally have no idea where I'm going with this, but uh… yeah go with the flow and all that jazz…. *cough*_

It's nearly dusk when Ron stumbles into Privet Drive with a soft _whoosh._ He immediately yanks the Invisibility Cloak around him that he'd taken from underneath Harry's cold body buried somewhere in rubble of the Great Hall. Casting a Disillusionment Charm on himself, Ron moved smoothly from the shadow of one streetlight to another and into the well-kept bushes of Number 4 Privet Drive.

_Crack!_

A truly inhuman smile flits over his face, as he sees a bedraggled elf stumble into Privet Drive, and he jumps.

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"Aarrgghhh!"

Harry jerks up at the yell that comes through his open window.

From downstairs he hears Uncle Vernon give a forced laugh. "Hooligans. Don't know what the policemen do these days."

Heart pounding, Harry ran to the window and fumbles with the lock, throwing it open. He looks out into the empty street heart pounding frantically. A flash of red is illuminated by a lamp post but by the time Harry tries to track it, it's gone.

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Ron stares up at the open window of Harry's room wondering how in the world he's supposed to let Harry survive this summer alone. There's no way he's going to be able to get Harry out of the Dursley's house with a reasonable pretext. After all, last year he did nothing but try to avoid Harry, except when he knew he needed it. A sharp pain went through his chest; all last year, he'd been running on adrenaline trying to keep Harry from getting himself killed, and now, the summer. As if he didn't have enough to do. As hard as he tries, Ron fails to keep a fond expression from his face pondering how many more times he's going to have to break the original timeline to keep Harry breathing.

Wind whooshes over him as Albus Dumbledore apparates into view next to him.

"Mr. Weasley." He greets Ron quietly peering at him over his half-moon glasses.

"Hello, Professor." Ron doesn't turn to look at him, instead choosing to gaze at Vernon Dursley's well-kept hydrangea bushes.

"And what might you be doing here at this hour, Mr. Weasley?"

Ron rolls his eyes. "Don't patronize me, Professor." He says tiredly and honestly, he is. There hasn't been a single night since this entire fiasco that he has gotten a good night's sleep. "You've already figured it out."

"I had an inkling." Dumbledore shifts his feet as if nervous, but this is ridiculous. Ron has never seen Dumbledore nervous. "How do you propose to keep this charade up Mr. Weasley? Harry will need your support before long."

Ron glares at the hydrangea bush wishing he could set it on fire. "That's interesting Professor, as throughout last year, I was the one keeping Harry alive." He switches his glare to Dumbledore, ignoring the sudden ache in his chest.

Dumbledore gazes at him with watery blue eyes, which Ron studiously ignores. "You do yourself a great discredit Mr. Weasley." Ron snorts, he doesn't think so at all. No, he thinks, he's been in self-pity for quite a while now. Dumbledore continues undeterred. "I have no idea what you have been through, but it must have been something to make you come running back. Nevertheless, you must make a plan Mr. Weasley, if you do not want the future to repeat itself." Ron turns back to stare at the bush, hands shaking. "I suggest re-kindling your friendship with Mr. Potter."

"He might remem-"

"He will not. There is no possible way that your meeting would rekindle memories that have never existed in this reality." Dumbledore said clearly. "But I would suggest you keep a reasonable distance, no reason to make him suspicious."

Ron snorts again. "So you want me to be his best friend again, but not enough so that he doesn't suspect anything. How the bloody hell am I supposed to that?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Oh I'm sure you'll figure something out. After all, I am talking to the one wizard I know, who willingly reunited with his eleven-year old self to save his best friend."

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By the time September rolls around, Ron is paralyzed with guilt, and nerves, and _fear._ What if Harry recognizes him? What if something had happened to him over the summer, and Ron could have saved him? What if- oh bloody hell, he's going to lose his mind.

All the way to King's Cross, Ron nerves are stretched tight, and he's gripping his wand so tightly, sparks keep flying out of it.

"I don't know what's gotten into you Ronald Weasley!" Molly Weasley – Ron found it very hard to call her 'mum' after seeing her get killed right in front of him – snapped at him crossly, after his wand spat some sparks at her creating a nasty burn.

Ron mumbles something that he hopes can pass for an apology and immediately distances himself from his family and loses himself in the crowd.

It's almost pathetic, the amount of relief he feels in seeing Harry's jet black hair weaving through the crowd, his Muggle clothes standing almost painfully out, in the sea of black.

Harry catches sight of him, and the way his eyes widen almost send Ron into cardiac arrest, but all he does is frown at Ron, a little thoughtfully, and turn away. Ron follows at a safe distance, ducking into the crowd whenever he catches sight of his family, in no mood to put up with strange questions.

When the train pulls away from the station and is trundling steadily down the country side, Ron finally manages to relax and is gladder than ever that he managed to get the elf to stay away from Harry. It had taken all of his amazing persuasion.

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Harry is glad that at least this year things seem to be going normal. He sees the strange red-haired boy a few times, over the course of the school year, despite the fact that they're in same the year, there's no sign of him. Except, of course, for Defense Against the Dark Arts, where he does nothing but glare relentlessly at Lockhart. Harry wants to laugh every time he sees him, slumped over his desk looking as if he's trying send daggers into Lockhart with his eyes.

"Right then," Lockhart said loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" Harry jerked back to attention just to see him open the cage door containing… blue insects?

"Pixies." Harry jerks again as the boy says in his ear with a look of pure amusement.

"You think this is funny?" Harry asks incredulously gesturing to chaos in the room; Lockhart is struggling to yank his wand from two screeching pixies, Neville is hanging from the chandelier by his robes, there's ink pouring off walls, and books are being torn out of their bindings.

The boy shrugs, blue eyes lighting up, making Harry feel oddly reminiscent about something. "What's not to like? It's hilarious." He grins at Harry running a hand through his red hair, smile fading when he notices Harry staring at him. "Don't have a sense of humor, do you mate?"

"I'm not your mate." Harry snaps, and instantly feels bad for it when the boy flinches. "Sorry, I-"

"No, it's fine." The boy grins at him, but it looks so faked that Harry feels even worse.

"I'm really sorry-" Harry tries again but the boy waves his hand.

"It's _fine._" With a quelling look at him, the boy waves his wand in a long sweeping motion, and instantly all the pixies freeze. With another sweep of his wand, they're deposited back into the cage, and he's gone; Harry left standing in the empty classroom feeling as if he'd missed a step going up a staircase.

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Harry and Hermione are sitting in the common room, Harry trying to copy Hermione's work without her noticing and Hermione is, as usual, reading a rather large book entitled _The Magical Herbs Of Southern Asia, _when the portrait door slams open everyone freezes, startled by the loud sound.

The red-haired boy stumbles through, a nasty gash on his cheek and a split lip. Harry and Hermione watch curiously as he trips on his way up the boys dorm gaining unkind laughs from two 6th year boys seated by the window. Harry follows his retreat and hurries after him instantly ignoring Hermione's shocked look as he tosses his book to the ground. The boy is sitting by the windows stroking Hedwig gently, a napkin held to face. It's already red.

"That looks nasty," Harry observes, and jumps when the boy snaps his wand out, eyes fierce.

"Oh," the boy falters and sticks the wand back to- wherever it came from- and settles back down, coaxing Hedwig back from where she had flown away. "It's you."

"Look," Harry begins awkwardly, "I'm sorry-"

"You don't have to apologize-" the boy begins, already shaking his head.

"No," Harry insists, "I'm sorry, you've done nothing but help me, and if it weren't for you.." He trails off.

The boy looks at him strangely. "Doubt the pixies would've hurt that badly mat-." He cuts himself off, and Harry feels even worse.

"I meant last year. Thank you for that." Harry clarifies moving closer noting how the boy tenses hand wandering to his pocket again.

"It was nothing," the boy mutters shoving both his hands into his pockets and staring out the window. And for Harry, sitting there in the moonlight quietly, it feels like something forgotten.

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It's his second Quidditch match of the season when Harry spots the Bludger heading for him, and _only _him. He grits his teeth and manages to pull off a dangerous swerve that nearly sends him into one of the goal posts.

-It's agonizing pain when the Bludger hits him, and he's lying on the sand, as the Bludger explodes around him, and he sees the strange red-haired boy shoving his wand back into his pocket and walking away with a murderous look on his face.

_So that's where he keeps it; _Is Harry's last thought before everything fades to black.

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Harry is so used to seeing the red-haired boy everywhere now, - in the halls, the dorm, showing up at the Halloween debacle- that he doesn't even care when he shows up panting at Hermione's bedside, cheeks redder than his hair, and eyes like stone. He's fixed on Hermione's still form and when looks up, Harry feels ice down his back at his expression.

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It's only after the whole incident with Tom Riddle and Dumbledore's office, and an _elf- _Merlin's beard, that Harry sees him. He's strolling down the side of the lake, flicking pieces of toast to the giant squid in the lake, with a serene expression, and then looks directly up at Harry, and gives him a nod, before turning back to the squid. The encounter leaves Harry more confused than ever.

_And I got this DONE! Ugh, this chapter was a witch to write- and I apologize for the extreme crappiness of this, but I'm sleep-deprived and have ton of work left to be done- so - off to sleep! _

_I don't know when I'll next update, but seriously guys, thank you so, so much for sticking with this, you're the best. Reviews make me very happy, and make me write more! _

_-DarkPrincessFangirl_


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